


Panic at Johnson Memorial

by anarchybeauty



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Hospitalization, Hypnosis, Satanic panic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 00:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchybeauty/pseuds/anarchybeauty
Summary: Mulder has fallen into a deep depression after his hypnosis goes badly.  Dr Dana Scully is his new psychiatrist.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea for this after listening to a podcast about the Satanic Panic. I'm mostly writing this to deal with some of the trauma associated with my own hospitalizations. If there's any other warnings I should add, please let me know.
> 
> Also- if you don't know, the NYT crossword is the gold standard for crosswords. Generally, Monday is the easiest and it gets more difficult through the week with Sunday being the hardest. I prefer Wednesday myself!

If you looked at building 17 from far away, you’d see a squat brick building like any other on the hospital campus. As you moved closer, you’d begin to notice the reinforced windows, the door buzzer and the plaque naming the building Johnson Memorial Treatment Centre. On this particular morning, Dr Dana Scully was hurrying up the front walk, juggling her briefcase, cellphone and ID card.

She swiped her card at the door and once inside, she took a sharp left. She tapped on the open office door of her new boss.

“Dr Abrams?”

“Come in, come in!” Dr Jeff Abrams was standing at his desk, his desk piled with books and files. Dana felt overdressed in her blouse, dress pants and sensible pumps, compared to his jeans and knitted vest. “”Ready for your first day?”

“As I’ll ever be.”  
“Have a seat. I’d like to go over a few patient files with you.”

“I think you’ll find this young man very interesting. His name is Fox Mulder.”

Scully opened the file he passed her. She skimmed the pages as he spoke.

“His younger sister was kidnapped when he was 13. She was never found. He began hypnotic regression therapy 4 years ago, but it has left him convinced she was abducted by aliens and that his father is part of some sort of Satanic conspiracy. I thought you might have some insight with your background in forensic psychology.”

She nodded absently as she flipped a page. “He’s refusing medication?”

Dr Abrams nodded as he leaned back in his chair. “He’s highly distrustful of Psychiatry and is only here to pacify his mother. He’s been here 7 weeks so far and he seems to be going through the motions, but so far hasn’t opened up to anyone.”

Scully tucked the folder into her briefcase. “I’ll meet with him today.”  
“Excellent!” Dr Abrams pushed back from his desk and stood. “Let me show you to your office.”

The unit was laid out like a slightly lopsided wheel. The centre was the common area where you could watch television and meals were served. Radiating out like spokes were patient rooms, the nurses station and treatment rooms.

Fo xMulder was sitting in the common room, a half finished crossword in front of him. He held a pen but was not writing, instead staring at the paper. Scully approached him, trying to appear as casual as she could.

“Fox? I’m Dr Scully, I’m the new psychiatrist here. Mind if I have a seat?”

He looked at her, hazel eyes assessing her from beneath his overgrown hair. He didn’t say anything. Scully sat across from him, and he looked back to his puzzle. They sat in silence for a moment.

“I think I’d like a coffee, you?”

Mulder looked at her again. “Um sure.”

He watched surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye as she poured two cups of coffee from the urn on the counter. He quickly looked back down as she turned back.

She sat, sipping her drink while Fox picked away at his crossword. “Is that the New York Times?” she asked casually.

“Ugh.. yeah.”  
“Today’s?”  
“No, yesterday’s.”  
“Ooh, Sunday’s. It usually takes me all week to finish that one. Thursday is just perfect for me.”  
“Yeah, same,” Fox croaked. His voice felt rusty and weak. It had been weeks, maybe months since he said more than two words at once.

Dr Scully finished her coffee and crossed her hands on the table. “I have to go, but can we have coffee again tomorrow?” He grunted. She took it as a yes. “Great, I’ll see you then.”

She flashed him a sunny smile and headed back to the nurses’ desk.

Bethany gave her a crooked smile as she sat down with Mulder’s file again.

“That’s the most anyone has gotten out of him since he came in.”

Scully shrugged. “I worked with convicts during my residency. If you came in with the standard approach, they’d clam up, but if you let them come to you, they’d tell you anything.”

Much, much later that day, Fox lay in his tiny bed, staring at the ceiling. His body was begging for sleep, but his mind dreaded it. He’d rather stare at the ceiling rather face another night of nightmares. His mind went back to his meeting with Dr Scully. When she handed him his coffee, her eyes, the colour of the ocean, had met his, and they had sparkled in the morning light. She was pretty, that’s for sure, but more than that, she seemed kind. He closed his eyes to savour the memory, and it was only moments until he was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They take their coffee in the courtyard.

Scully put a tray of coffees in paper cups on the nurses’ desk and sat next to Bethany.

“How was last night?”  
“Quiet. Even Fox, he was only up once.”

Scully hummed in acknowledgement as she perused the night log. “Can you let Pauline know I’d like to see her this afternoon? I’m going to meet with Fox this morning.”

She managed to coax Fox into sitting with her in the courtyard. The “courtyard” was not nearly as nice as the name implied; it was a concrete slab surrounded by brick walls. It was mainly used as a spot to smoke; at some point, flowerbeds and benches were installed, but the dirt was filled with discharged cigarette butts and the benches covered in bird crap.

Scully sat primly, ankles crossed, and passed Mulder his coffee cup. He reluctantly settled next to her and sipped.

“So tell me about yourself,” she said, blowing on her drink.  
He snorted. “What do you want to know?”  
“Where are you from, who’s your favourite Beatle, do you like pineapple on your pizza, is a hotdog a sandwich?”

He snorted. “I grew up in Massachusetts, I don’t really have an opinion on the Beatles, I hate pineapple on pizza, and hot dog sandwiches is way above my pay grade.”

She laughed. It was infectious and he chuckled to himself. “I don’t know, I like sci fi and bad movies, my favourite snack is sunflower seeds. Tell me something about you?”

“Hmmm... well, I also hate pineapple on pizza. Favourite snack is ice cream. My father was in the Navy and we moved around a lot.”

They sat in silence for a moment, then Mulder found himself saying, “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”  
“Do you want to tell me?”  
Mulder was surprised to discover he did. “My sister was abducted. I was in the house when it happened, we know that for certain but everything else… it’s a muddle. My parents sent me to every shrink they could find, I’ve been hypnotized dozens, maybe hundreds of times, and it all… I remember things that can’t be real, I remember my father wearing a black cloak and drinking blood, I remember aliens, I remember her being picked up by a beam of light, I remember screaming and crying, my parents fighting… so many things and none of them make sense.” He gulped the last of his coffee. “When I was in university, things were okay. I was busy enough that I didn’t think of it, but now it’s all I think about. My mom found my journal where I was writing all these thoughts down and she decided I was psychotic. I guess it didn’t help that I had written her a goodbye letter in case I decided to… opt out, so she had me committed.”  
“Thank you, Fox. I appreciate you sharing that with me.”

She smiled at him, and he could see her eyes were shimmering with suppressed tears. He looked away embarrassed.

“Look, Fox,” she turned toward him. “Can I make a deal with you? Will you try meds for the next week? At least something for your anxiety and to help you sleep? You’re so sleep deprived no wonder your thoughts are muddled.”

He looked down at his lap. It had been a long time since he wanted to trust someone. Something told him he could trust her, maybe she was the only one he could trust.

“Okay.”


End file.
